The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman by Laurence Sterne (pdf e book reader txt) 📕

Imagine such a one,⁠⸺⁠for such, I say, were the outlines of Dr. Slop’s figure, coming slowly along, foot by foot, waddling thro’ the dirt upon the vertebrae of a little diminutive pony, of a pretty colour⁠⸺⁠but of strength,⁠⸺⁠alack!⁠⸺⁠scarce able to have made an amble of it, under such a fardel, had the roads been in an ambling condition.⁠⸺⁠They were not.⁠⸺⁠Imagine to yourself, Obadiah mounted upon a strong monster of a coach-horse, pricked into a full gallop, and making all practicable speed the adverse way.

Pray, Sir, let me interest you a moment in this description.

Had Dr. Slop beheld Obadiah a mile off, posting in a narrow lane directly towards him, at that monstrous rate,⁠—splashing and plunging like a devil thro’ thick and thin, as he approached, would not such a phænomenon, with such a vortex of mud and water moving along with it, round its axis,⁠—have been a subject of juster apprehension to Dr. Slop in his situation, than the worst of Whiston’s comets?⁠—To say nothing of the Nucleus; that is, of Obadiah and the coach-horse.⁠—In my idea, the vortex alone of ’em was enough to have involved and carried, if not the doctor, at least the doctor’s pony, quite away with it. What then do you think must the terror and hydrophobia of Dr. Slop have been, when you read (which you are just going to do) that he was advancing thus warily along towards Shandy-Hall, and had approached to within sixty yards of it, and within five yards of a sudden turn, made by an acute angle of the garden-wall,⁠—and in the dirtiest part of a dirty lane,⁠—when Obadiah and his coach-horse turned the corner, rapid, furious,⁠—pop,⁠—full upon him!⁠—Nothing, I think, in nature, can be supposed more terrible than such a rencounter,⁠—so imprompt! so ill prepared to stand the shock of it as Dr. Slop was.

What could Dr. Slop do?⁠⸺⁠he crossed himself +⁠—Pugh!⁠—but the doctor, Sir, was a Papist.⁠—No matter; he had better have kept hold of the pummel⁠—He had so;⁠—nay, as it happened, he had better have done nothing at all; for in crossing himself he let go his whip,⁠⸺⁠and in attempting to save his whip betwixt his knee and his saddle’s skirt, as it slipped, he lost his stirrup,⁠⸺⁠in losing which he lost his seat;⁠⸺⁠and in the multitude of all these losses (which, by the by, shows what little advantage there is in crossing) the unfortunate doctor lost his presence of mind. So that without waiting for Obadiah’s onset, he left his pony to its destiny, tumbling off it diagonally, something in the stile and manner of a pack of wool, and without any other consequence from the fall, save that of being left (as it would have been) with the broadest part of him sunk about twelve inches deep in the mire.

Obadiah pull’d off his cap twice to Dr. Slop;⁠—once as he was falling,⁠—and then again when he saw him seated.⁠⸺⁠Ill-timed complaisance;⁠—had not the fellow better have stopped his horse, and got off and help’d him?⁠—Sir, he did all that his situation would allow;⁠—but the Momentum of the coach-horse was so great, that Obadiah could not do it all at once; he rode in a circle three times round Dr. Slop, before he could fully accomplish it anyhow;⁠—and at the last, when he did stop his beast, ’twas done with such an explosion of mud, that Obadiah had better have been a league off. In short, never was a Dr. Slop so beluted, and so transubstantiated, since that affair came into fashion.

When Dr. Slop entered the back parlour, where my father and my uncle Toby were discoursing upon the nature of women,⁠⸺⁠it was hard to determine whether Dr. Slop’s figure, or Dr. Slop’s presence, occasioned more surprise to them; for as the accident happened so near the house, as not to make it worth while for Obadiah to remount him,⁠⸺⁠Obadiah had led him in as he was, unwiped, unappointed, unannealed, with all his stains and blotches on him.⁠—He stood like Hamlet’s ghost, motionless and speechless, for a full minute and a half at the parlour-door (Obadiah still holding his hand) with all the majesty of mud. His hinder parts, upon which he had received his fall, totally besmeared,⁠⸺⁠and in every other part of him, blotched over in such a manner with Obadiah’s explosion, that you would have sworn (without mental reservation) that every grain of it had taken effect.

Here was a fair opportunity for my uncle Toby to have triumphed over my father in his turn;⁠—for no mortal, who had beheld Dr. Slop in that pickle, could have dissented from so much at least, of my uncle Toby’s opinion, “That mayhap his sister might not care to let such a Dr. Slop come so near her ****.” But it was the Argumentum ad hominem; and if my uncle Toby was not very expert at it, you may think, he might not care to use it.⁠⸺⁠No; the reason was,⁠—’twas not his nature to insult.

Dr. Slop’s presence at that time, was no less problematical than the mode of it; tho’ it is certain, one moment’s reflection in my father might have solved it; for he had apprized Dr. Slop but the week before, that my mother was at her full reckoning; and as the doctor had heard nothing since, ’twas natural and very political too in him, to have taken a ride to Shandy-Hall, as he did, merely to see how matters went on.

But my father’s mind took unfortunately a wrong turn in the investigation; running, like the hypercritick’s, altogether upon the ringing of the bell and the rap upon the door,⁠—measuring their distance, and keeping his mind so intent upon the operation as to have power to think of nothing else,⁠⸺⁠commonplace infirmity of the greatest mathematicians! working with might and main at the demonstration, and so wasting all their strength upon it, that they have none left in them to draw the corollary, to do good with.

The ringing of the bell, and the rap upon the door, struck likewise strong upon the sensorium